


The Only Sure Thing About Luck

by Impala_Chick



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Awkward Tension, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Dean and Sam are Tony fanboys, Getting Back Together, Gunshot Wounds, Hotels, Identity Reveal, M/M, Magic, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Road Trips, Secret Identity, Snowed In, Steve Is Bad At Feelings, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Winchester Luck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 16:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12938748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Chick/pseuds/Impala_Chick
Summary: Steve sets out on his motorcycle, content with hiding in the shadows after his falling-out with Tony. He doesn't even know what he would say to Tony if he saw him again. While on the road, he tries to assist two men driving a shiny black Impala and gets a rabbit's foot for his trouble. A lucky rabbit's foot. But the only sure thing about Luck is that it changes.





	The Only Sure Thing About Luck

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy, Elizabet! Thank you again for your contribution to such a worthy cause. I feel so honored to have been picked by you. I apologize for the time it took me to get this together.
> 
> HUGE thank you to Atsadi for the beta!

The brown hotel room fan whirred above him, and Steve watched the blades go around until he got dizzy. 

Two weeks ago, he’d left Bucky in Wakanda to break out his friends, the ones who had chosen to stand by him when they had no obligation to. He’d traveled with them to their safe houses and left them with their families, and he didn’t expect to hear from them anytime soon. It had been seventy-two hours since he’d seen Sam, five days since he’d dropped off Wanda and Vision, and two weeks since he’d seen Clint. Everyone was going to stay underground for awhile, just to be safe. 

Steve returned to Brooklyn undercover, and he realized how alone he was. The _rush rush rush_ of planning, executing that plan, and then hiding had kept him busy, with no time to process what exactly had happened. But he had to face the fact that everything had changed. He may have been right, but the cost had been high in the end. Sometimes he fantasized about calling Tony, about apologizing. But he figured that wouldn’t end well.

The restlessness ate at him until he had to get up and just _go_. He grabbed the emergency cash he stored under his mattress, likely a habit he picked up from his ma, and high-tailed it out of town. He took a bus down to D.C. to stop at Sam’s apartment while Sam wasn’t home. Luckily Steve's refurbished Harley was still tucked away in Sam’s garage, and he commandeered it and drove like a madman until he was too tired to keep driving. 

Steve lay in the cheap motel room he’d booked, hoping no one in the lobby had recognized him. He had pulled his black ball cap low on his brow when he checked in at the front desk, and his large aviators surely hid enough of his face at the time. 

He sat up and glanced around the room, surprised at how quickly his life had changed. The hotel room walls were cracked in places, and haphazardly covered with beige paint. There was one dresser with two drawers, and dust lined the bottom of each. Steve had the cloth curtains drawn as tightly closed as possible across the small window even though they didn’t quite touch in the middle. The one lamp on the nightstand didn’t illuminate all corners of the room. This place did not remind him of the compound at all, and Steve supposed that was a good thing. He was only there to sleep.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept all the way through the night, without waking to nightmares of Wakandans burning, or Bucky’s arm getting ripped off on the train, or by Tony, or Peggy just watching him with disappointment in her eyes, or Tony looking at Steve like he was a _monster_. Like Tony thought Steve was going to kill him.

To distract himself, Steve counted his belongings. He only had one duffel to his name, filled with things he had purchased in Brooklyn right before he left. The duffel was stuffed with six gray and six blue T-shirts, three pairs of jeans, five pairs of sweatpants, two hoodies, Colgate toothpaste and a red toothbrush. 

He wondered what had happened to the stuff he had left in the compound. Maybe it was all locked away in some government evidence locker. Maybe Tony had thrown it all away. 

It didn’t matter. Steve couldn’t think of one material possession he still wanted. He didn’t even want to bear the burden of wearing the shield. He was a different person now.

He didn’t have a plan, for once. He figured he had enough cash to get across several states, possibly as far as Missouri. Hell, he’d never lived in the midwest before. 

Steve had smashed up his cell phone and dumped the pieces in a dumpster after he’d parted ways with Sam. He knew Sam would kill him when he found out, but Steve thought it was the right thing. His friends would worry, he knew that, but this way he could try to put some distance between himself and everything he had already asked them to do for him. Surely Sam would understand. When Steve reached a point where he could live with himself, he’d reach back out. Besides, several governments were still looking for him. 

The only things Steve kept from his old life were his Harley, and an old gray flip phone. 

Only one person had that number.

\---

Each morning, Steve got up with the sun. He’d hit the gym if his motel had one. He’d brush his teeth with his red toothbrush, and watch as the water spiraled down the drain. He’d step into the shower and let the hot water envelope him. Sometimes,as steam swirled around him, he would let himself think of Tony’s scars, Tony’s ass, Tony’s _smile_. If the mood struck him, he’d jerk off just to relieve the tension. 

Sometimes the drain would back up, sometimes the shower curtain didn’t reach the rim of the tub and water would drip out onto the tile. But those were someone else’s problems, and he would ignore the imperfections as if everything was normal. He’d use the free shampoo and the free soap, and then he’d step out and dry himself with the rough hotel towel. Then he’d methodically put on his pants, his shirt, and his jacket, he’d pull his black hat low on his brow, check out, and mount his bike.

Steve revved through town after town this way, and time barely registered for him. Maybe if he just kept moving, he could pretend he was never an Avenger. Never a hero. Maybe he’d forget that he’d let everyone down.

\---

Somewhere in Pennsylvania, as Steve was driving down a four-lane highway with the wind whipping past him, he noticed a car stopped on the side of the road. A man and a woman were kneeling down beside it, clearly trying to replace a tire. 

Steve considered looking the other way, but his stomach clenched up and he couldn’t just drive by without asking if they needed help. He flipped his turn signal on and made his way to the shoulder.

He briefly wondered whether they would recognize him, but he hadn’t shaved since he’d gotten back to the states and his beard had grown substantially. He hoped there was enough of a difference in his appearance to throw them off. 

Replacing a tire was something he could do. Something simple, something that earned no glory and required no fighting. No heavy responsibility, no careful planning required. Just one person helping another. Maybe Steve could avoid trouble and national headlines, and still help people.

After Steve finished replacing the last lug nut, the man and the woman had smiled at him. Really smiled.

If they had recognized him, they didn’t mention it. 

It was a start. 

\---

Steve was speeding down a two-lane somewhere outside Chicago, when he noticed a sleek black muscle car pulled over on the right shoulder. A tall guy was bent over looking in the trunk for something, and a second guy was kneeling down messing with the tire. 

Steve pulled up in front of the car. Helping motorists had become his new hobby. He killed the engine, propped his bike on his kickstand, and pulled his ballcap down.

“You guys need any help?” Steve asked as he walked over to the car.

The man who was working on the tire had short cropped hair and a brown leather jacket. He blinked up at Steve a few times, his mouth set in a firm scowl. The tall guy came around the back of the car. He seemed slightly agitated, but he tried to cover with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I think we got it. Just a flat.”

“I have some sealant in my emergency kit,” Steve offered. “Might be able to get your car to a garage.”

Leather jacket laughed. Tall dude shot his partner? friend? a look that clearly conveyed ‘shut up.’ 

“Dean doesn’t like anyone else touching the car. He’s nearly done, he just has to tighten all the lug nuts. I’m Sam, by the way.” Sam stuck out his hand, and Steve politely shook it. He told Sam his first name, just like he usually did with the people he helped. He was glad it wasn’t anything unusual. 

Dean bent down to work on the tire again without giving Steve a second glance. 

“We really appreciate you stopping, though.” Sam clearly tried to convey to Steve that he should leave. 

Steve turned to walk back to his bike, feeling slightly put-out. The pair gave Steve a weird vibe, like they weren’t telling him everything. That’s when he noticed the red pickup truck speeding past them. It swerved, flipped a U-turn, and started bearing down on them from the other direction. The driver cut across the double yellow lines before the truck tires screeched to a halt.

A young, pimple-faced man with a blue trucker hat on hopped out of the cab and leveled his shotgun at Dean. Steve was momentarily shocked, but quickly regained his composure and tried to figure out how to gain a tactical advantage. His options where limited. Surely if the lunged at the man, Dean would get shot. 

“Give it back!” the man yelled. 

A young woman with long blonde hair and cut-off jeans hopped down from the cab after him, her hands on her hips. Steve put his hands up and tried to back up towards Dean and Sam, to position himself between them and the weapon.

“Easy now, fella. I’m sure there’s a way to talk this out if you just -” Steve was cut off when the man waved his gun at him, his eyes crazed. He sure wasn’t going to make this easy.

“Look, Percy. We told you already, that thing is cursed. You can’t have it,” Dean said as he slowly got up from the ground. Steve turned back to look, trying to calculate where the bullet would go if Percy pulled the trigger when Steve lunged for him. Steve reflexively reached over his shoulder and tried to squeeze his hand around an imaginary shield grip, and rolled his eyes at himself. His whole body tensed, ready to jump into action. He just needed Dean to move a little bit to the right…

A shot rang through the air and Percy dropped to the ground, blood dribbling out of his chest. The woman screamed and put her hands over her mouth. Steve looked back to see Sam wielding a sawed-off like an expert. He’d clearly produced it from the trunk while Percy was distracted.

“Sam, what the fuck?” Dean whipped his head around to look at Sam. Steve bent over Percy.

“It’s rock salt. I had limited options,” Sam said, slightly out of breath, as he made his way to Dean.

Steve rushed forward to pick Percy up, and Percy started to sputter when his breath came back to him.

“Better lay on the ground for a minute, buddy. That’s gonna hurt,” Steve said. He planned on asking why his new friends had shotguns full of rock salt, but at the moment he figured it was more important to get everyone off the highway. 

Just as Steve started to make his way to the other side of the car with Percy in his arms, he heard a gun safety click off.

“Stop walking.” The woman’s icy voice was very clearly directed at Steve. He slowly turned around. 

She had a pistol pointed at him, and she used it to motion for him to put Percy down. He considered dropping Percy and lunging for her, but he figured Percy was not going to survive another wound if the woman missed.

“Sara, he’s not with us,” Sam said as he raised his arms up, shotgun still in hand.

“Oh, he’s not? Well, then.” Sara deftly swung her pistol away from Steve, took a heartbeat to steady herself, and then squeezed the trigger. Steve didn’t even have time to put Percy down before the loud _pop_ of the gun went off and Dean fell to the ground.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean grunted. 

Steve made to rush to Dean, but Sara glared at him.

“Look, I’m not sure what’s going on, but that man needs help.” Steve made sure to gently place Percy on the ground before he started to walk forward, towards the woman.

“Sara, here! You can have it, just put the gun down.” Steve hadn’t noticed, but Sam must have grabbed a box from the trunk. He opened it, pulled something out, and tossed it at Sara.

Steve figured that Sam was just trying to get Sara to stop shooting at everyone, but this girl and her partner were clearly off their rockers. And Sam didn’t know that Steve was a super soldier and didn’t need protecting. Surely he couldn’t just let Sara have whatever it was she was after.

So Steve reached out and grabbed the thing before Sara could catch it.

“You fuckin’ piece of shit!” Sara yelled. She glared at Steve for a moment, clearly contemplating whether or not to shoot him.

“It’s worthless now that it’s not in the box.” She spat, before walking back to the truck.

“Get up, Percy. Let’s go,” She hissed. Percy groaned and grunted, but eventually propped himself up to hobble to the truck.

Steve hunched down next to Dean as the truck revved and sped past them. Sam was pressing his hand against Dean’s lower thigh as blood soaked through Dean’s jeans. 

Steve glanced down at the object he had caught. It was furry, slightly oily, and mostly gray, with a keychain at the end of it. It looked like a rabbit’s foot. Steve was going to have to shelve that question for now too.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” Steve said, pocketing the object. 

“No!” Sam and Dean both growled in unison. 

Sam tried to backtrack. “Look, uh. We can handle this, we just need to get Dean in the car.”

Steve looked between them. Dean’s face showed his pain but he looked more annoyed than anything else. Sam was slightly panicked, but it seemed like he was more worried about choosing his words carefully then about the blood currently covering his hands.

“You guys flying under the radar? I get it. But I helped people during the war. I can help now. And you’ve got to explain this thing to me.” Steve waived the rabbit’s foot in the air, and watched as Sam considered him for a moment.

“Can we hurry this up?” Dean groaned.

“Okay fine. Help me get him in.” Sam nodded towards the back seat, and removed his hand to open the door. Steve saw the amount of blood Dean had already lost, but Steve had seen worse. Much worse.

Dean struggled to get up, and Sam hauled him up and backwards by his left arm. Steve stepped forward and put his left arm behind Dean’s back. He used his right arm to scoop under Dean’s knees, and then he picked him up bridal style to place him in the back seat. 

Dean squawked and glared at Steve as he put him down. 

“I did not appreciate that!” Dean said, indignant.

Sam glanced at Steve, slightly perplexed.

“Alright, follow us,” Sam said as he jumped behind the wheel and started up the car. 

Steve glanced down at the tire and remembered why he had stopped in the first place.

“Wait, the lug nuts!” Steve tightened the bolts on the tire by hand. He hurriedly threw the tools Dean had been using in the trunk and slammed it. Sam sped off, and Steve jumped on his bike to follow.

So much for avoiding any trouble on his road trip.

\---

Dean was laying on the bed with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. Steve had helped cut off Dean’s pants to expose his wound, and had washed it with antiseptic Sam had handed him from his bag. Then Sam had started to dig around in Dean’s leg, and Dean barely said a word.

Sam pulled his hand up in triumph, the bullet clenched between his large tweezers. Steve was slightly taken aback. These guys were clearly familiar with gunshot wounds.

Dean must have noticed Steve’s expression, because he smiled at him.

“You’re not gonna ralph on us, are ya?” Dean asked, sitting up. 

“I’m just concerned about the crowd I’ve fallen in with.” Steve shrugged and took off his hat. He figured if they hadn’t recognized him without the sunglasses, maybe they wouldn’t recognize him at all. Steve half-hoped they would, just so he could ask them if they’d heard anything about the Avengers. 

Steve held his breath for a moment, but neither of them said anything. In fact, they barely spared him a glance. Sam was way too involved in his task, and Dean was busy taking a swig of the liquor.

Steve reached into his pocket for the rabbit’s foot and then dangled it in front of Dean, as Sam continued bandaging up his leg.

“So, I’m going to need an explanation.”

Sam glanced at Steve, and then at the rabbit’s foot, his eyes squinted and his mouth set in a thin line. Dean was less subtle and visibly winced.

“Sorry about that, man. We appreciate your heroics but now you happen to be holding in your hand a cursed object,” Dean explained.

Steve repressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“So, magic?”

“Huh. I expected more backlash,” Dean said with a shrug. He shot Sam a look that was a mix between ‘I don’t trust this guy’ and ‘How much are we going to tell him?’ Steve knew the look well because he’d used it once or twice when trying to consult with Natasha or Tony. The thought of his former teammates did things to his guts that he did not want to examine any closer. Besides, he was sure Tony wasn’t missing him. 

With the hand not currently holding the rabbit’s foot, Steve reflexively squeezed the flip phone he kept in his left pocket.

“You’re going to have a crazy streak of good luck while you have the foot,” Sam said as he started to pack up their first aid kit.

“But lose it and -” Dean dragged his thumb across his throat to signify decapitation. 

“Perfect,” Steve grumbled under his breath. He slumped into a nearby chair, and didn’t even bother hiding his pout. 

“The good news is you don’t have to tape that thing to your body forever,” Dean said as he sat up. He groaned as he swung his legs over the bed and hobbled to the bathroom.

Sam tossed Dean some jeans from a duffel on the ground, and sat on the edge of the bed facing Steve.

“Look, we know of a spell that will allow us to safely destroy the foot, and then you won’t have to worry about it. We’ve dealt with this before, and the spell worked that time. Dean and I just have to go get the ingredients for it, because we’re out of some key stuff. That’s the whole reason this thing isn’t already destroyed.”

Dean popped his head out of the bathroom to chime in. “Ya, tweedle dum and tweedle dumber were trying to collect black magic items like that rabbit foot and get rich. We had to roll in and shut down their operation real quick.”

“So if you just stay here, one of us will be back in about three days with the right ingredients.”

Steve had about a million questions. Who exactly were these guys? How did they knew about black magic? Why did they think they could just leave him here? Should Steve just bite the bullet and call Dr. Strange?

Then came a knock at the door. Sam motioned for Dean to get back into the bathroom, and then he looked through the peephole. He turned to give Steve a bemused shrug before he opened the door. 

A hotel employee in a starched white shirt and a nametag had her hands on a silver cart, loaded with two plates of food.

“Hello sir, this may seem strange but the room next door paid for room service but had to check out in a hurry. Would you like to have it?”

“Sure, thanks.” Sam took the plates from her and set them down on the small desk up against the wall. Sam ushered her out with a ‘have a nice day’, and then turned to Steve. 

“You don’t think - ” Steve started to say, flabbergasted.

“Yes, dude. I’m telling you, it’s the foot,” Sam said, laughing. 

“Wait, we are staying at a place with room service?” Dean asked as he emerged from the bathroom.

“We stopped at the first hotel we saw, and Steve’s got the rabbit’s foot, remember? So ya, this place is nice.”

Steve was too busy considering his options to listen to the rest of their conversation. If he forced himself to go with them, he couldn’t be sure how the rabbit foot would affect him or them. Plus, if it really was that lucky, he wouldn’t want anything to happen that might draw attention to himself. Sam and Dean had already proven to be competent. Steve could use some allies, and now that he was off the grid these guys seemed like good people to know. If he went along with their plan and they delivered like they said they could, Steve would be on their good side and they would owe him. Not a bad position to be in. Worse case scenario, he’d have to call in a favor from Dr. Strange.

“Alright, Steve. Dean is going to stay with you, and I’m going to go. You’re in good hands.” Sam smiled at him, and Steve nearly laughed. Sam was using the ‘soothing a civilian’ techniques that Tony or Clint would sometimes use. 

“You don’t have to babysit me. I’ve got nowhere to go,” Steve pointed out.

“Ya, but you’ve got a pretty nice Harley sitting out there and I’ve got a bum leg. So how about you just hand over the keys, and I’ll get myself my own room so we don’t have to breathe down each other's necks.” Dean stepped forward, his hand reaching for the keys.

Steve’s first instinct was to tuck the keys away and get on the defensive, but he had already made up his mind to stay and learn what he could about magic and about Dean and Sam. Besides, it wouldn’t be hard to get his keys back if he needed them.

“Fine.” He tossed his motorcycle keys to Dean, and Sam nodded at them both before he was out the door. 

“Alright man, I’m going to the lobby. Did you want to come or wait here?”

“I’ll come,” Steve said as he got up from the chair. He grabbed his ballcap and headed out with Dean.

\---

When they stepped into the foyer, Dean whistled.

“What?” Steve asked.

“This are nicer digs then I’m used to, is all,” Dean said with a shrug.

There were signs posted everywhere, with arrows pointing to different conference rooms, the pool room, and the gym. There were red and gold rugs on the ground, and plush brown chairs arranged neatly in a semi-circle. This wasn’t the nicest hotel Steve had ever seen, but it definitely wasn’t your average motel six. 

Suddenly the big glass double doors swung open, and a gaggle of people burst into the lobby. Steve could make out a large contingent of press. Camera flashes were going off and a few reporters were shouting out questions. Steve immediately tensed up. How ironic would it be for him to be exposed here, of all places?

But the press wasn’t trying to hound him. They all had eyes for someone else.

Tony Stark crossed the threshold into the room and the breath nearly left Steve’s lungs. He stood there gaping at Tony’s fine tailored black suit and red tie. Tony’s hair was gelled up, and he pulled off his sunglasses like he was in a slow-motion sequence in a movie. His cheeks were flushed and he was talking excitedly in response to questions. Steve nearly choked on his tongue. By looking at Tony, you wouldn’t have been able to tell that anything bad had happened between the Avengers.

Steve started to seriously doubt the rabbit’s foot and its so-called luck. This was the opposite of lucky. This was probably the worst coincidence possible. Steve hadn’t seen Tony since… well, since Siberia.

Steve came to his senses and turned so that his back was to Tony. That’s when he noticed what all the signs that he ignored had said.

CHICAGO TECH CONFERENCE.

Steve stepped away from Dean and tried to shrink down as small as he could next to a fake tree that decorated the lobby.

As Tony’s entourage swept past Steve, he remembered to breathe again. He could have reached out and touched Tony if he had wanted to, and even that close the man didn’t notice him. Steve felt the weight of all that had happened between them even heavier than he had before. Steve had been on his own for weeks now, and he was still no closer to figuring out a way to close that gap between himself and Tony. Fate may have brought them physically closer, but that didn’t help Steve one bit.

Dean excitedly rushed up to him.

“Dude, that was Tony Stark!”

Steve rolled his eyes.

\---

The rest of the day passed pretty uneventfully. Dean insisted that they go to the pool, or the attached restaurant, or to the gym, because you “never know what could happen with that foot!” but Steve stubbornly refused. He did not want to risk giving away his position and running into Tony.

That evening, Sam checked in with Dean over the phone. Sounded like everything was on schedule.

Steve only had to get through two more days. All he had to do was lay low, maybe order room service a couple of times, and wait.

A wrench was thrown in Steve’s plan when he noticed little white flakes floating outside his hotel window. He hurriedly flicked on the weather channel, but he already suspected the worst.

“...this freak storm will likely bring 3-5 inches of snow, so please stay warm…”

Steve looked at Dean, his eyes narrowed.

“You still think this rabbit’s foot is lucky?”

\---

About three hours into the storm, the lights went out. Steve glanced at his wristwatch. It was 0100. He hadn’t been able to sleep, and not just because the wind was pounding against the hotel window. 

He’d been lying awake on top of the covers. He hadn’t even bothered getting undressed. Ever since Steve had seen Tony, he’d felt hyper aware of his skin. It was like all the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up and there was nothing he could do to calm himself. Tony was somewhere, in the same hotel, and Steve was hiding out.

He wasn’t proud of that fact, but it was the truth. 

Steve counted to sixty before the lights flickered back on. At least the generators were working. He strained to listen for any sign of trouble, but it seemed like everything was quiet. 

Eventually, Steve drifted off despite the myriad of thoughts swirling around in his head. All the what ifs where the worst. 

\---

Steve woke to a pounding at his door. He rolled off the bed and found Dean standing in the hallway in black gym shorts and a gray T-shirt.

“They said we have to evacuate this floor. There’s some kind of water leak. We gotta go to the lobby.”

Steve grabbed the rabbit’s foot and his room key and met Dean in the hallway. 

Dean looked pensive for a moment as he watched Steve pocket the foot. The “luck” seemed to have run out. The last 24 hours did not make much sense.

“The storm broke, and Sam’s on his way back. Hopefully we’ll just be chilling in the hallway for a bit,” Dean explained as they took the elevator down to the lobby. 

When the doors dinged open, Steve looked out onto a fairly large crowd of hotel guests, all in various states of morning undress. Steve reminded himself to focus on his breathing, so as not to panic among so many potential attackers, enemies, or spies. He knew he was being slightly irrational, but that thought didn’t help calm his beating heart.

He followed Dean to the east wall of the lobby, directly across from the elevators. Dean must have noticed Steve’s agitation, because he started to talk with a voice resembling that of a high school counselor. Steve supposed this part must usually be Sam’s job, because Dean’s words weren’t exactly comforting.

“I know this is tough, but I’m sure they’ll fix up the hotel soon and then we can go back upstairs.”

Steve was trying to think of some witty retort to get Dean to realize that he would, in fact, be just fine, until the elevator doors whisked open. 

Tony stepped out, alone. 

He was wearing black track pants and a white v-neck. His hair was tousled and greasy, and it looked like he hadn’t slept well either. Because of where the elevator was situated, he looked up and couldn’t help but meet Steve’s eyes. 

Steve held his breath and time seemed to be suspended. He could no longer hear anything happening around him and his situational awareness was seriously compromised. He expected Tony to turn away, to flinch, to shoot him dead on the spot. But the funniest thing happened. 

He smiled.

Steve was sure his mouth was gaping open like a fish, but he couldn’t help himself. Tony was walking towards him.

“Nice beard, Ca- I mean, Steve,” Tony said, shooting a glance at Dean. Steve stood up, not sure what to do with his hands. 

“It’s good to see you, Tony.” Steve locked eyes with Tony, and meant it.

“Same.”

“Wait, hold the phone. You know _Tony Stark _?” Dean was clearly shocked, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh a little.__

__“Tony, meet Dean.”_ _

__Dean eagerly stood up and shot out his hand to shake Tony’s. Tony appraised Dean quizzically, and Steve suddenly felt the need to explain._ _

__“He’s uh, helping me with a little situation,” he started to say._ _

__“No Mr. Stark, he’s being modest. Steve here was just trying to help my brother and I when we got him all mixed up in some magic…” Dean stopped mid-sentence to look between them and realization dawned on his face._ _

__“Oh, shit. Are you…?” Dean stared at Steve with new eyes. Steve nearly blushed under the sudden scrutiny._ _

__“Well, I guess flying under the radar suits you, eh Rogers?” Tony said with a radiant smile, his public persona firmly in place. Steve felt like Tony’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, though._ _

__“You two probably have some catching up to do, so I maybe I should… go?” Dean said, hesitant._ _

__“Yes,” Steve immediately replied._ _

__“Oh, Dean, don’t let us put you out,” Tony said at the same time. Steve glared at him, and then glared at Dean. He hadn’t wanted for Tony to see him like _this_ , sleep deprived and bedraggled. He hadn’t wanted to talk to Tony for a very long time. But now he was here, and they were going to have to at least say _something_. Steve knew that the lobby was not the place to have this discussion._ _

__“Let’s go to the indoor pool. We’ll be back, Dean.” Steve started walking, and didn’t even look back to see if Tony was following him._ _

__The pool room had significantly fewer people inside, although there were still random hotel guests milling about._ _

__Steve turned around, his hands on his hips, ready to face Tony. No one ever said saying sorry was easy._ _

__“Tony, I am really sorry about everything that has happened and I just haven’t been ready to face anybody,” Steve said in a rush. Tony stared at him, his eyes impossible to read. Steve felt his chest constricting, and he thought it might be best if he just dropped dead right at that moment._ _

__The universe didn’t grant his wish._ _

__Instead, another hotel guest walked a little too close and bumped Steve’s shoulder. Considering Steve’s legs felt like jello and he was having a hard time breathing, it was not surprising that his bodily integrity was not up to optimal super-soldier standards. Steve wobbled for a millisecond, overcorrected, and then fell right into the pool._ _

__The resulting splash made other hotel guests gasp. Steve quickly popped to the surface in time to find Tony shouting his name and leaning over the pool. Someone ran over with a towel and Tony grabbed Steve’s hand to help haul him up and out._ _

__The cold water had shocked Steve right out of his embarrassment. He looked down at his soaked jeans, and pulled at his wet shirt where it clung to his body. He gratefully took the towel offered and couldn’t help but laugh at himself. He was wiping his face when he noticed Tony’s expression._ _

__Tony was gazing at him, his attention clearly focused in on where the front of Steve’s wet jeans clung to his dick. It was nothing Tony hadn’t seen before, but Steve was still surprised at the way Tony was looking at him, hunger in his eyes. Maybe some things hadn’t changed._ _

__“I, uh. Tony?”_ _

__Tony’s eyes snapped up to his face._ _

__“As you were saying, Rogers. I don’t want to miss out on your big apology.” Tony said it without malice, but Steve still cringed a little._ _

__“Right. Well, I didn’t expect us to have it out poolside while trapped at a hotel.”_ _

__Tony sighed, and Steve floundered for words. He had lost Tony already, and he hadn’t even finished saying his piece._ _

__Steve heard another ‘splash’ and whipped his head around. Over by the deep end, a parent was screaming that his child had fallen in. Steve sharted shimmying out of his jeans, so he could swim faster. But Tony beat him to it and dove into the pool._ _

__Steve ran around the edge to take the kid from Tony’s arms and hand him to his distraught parent. He was soaking wet and his hair covered his face, but other than that he looked unharmed. Good thing Tony had acted so quickly._ _

__Steve looked back to watch Tony clamber out of the pool. His white v-neck clung to his very well-defined chest and Steve let himself stare as Tony sat at the edge of the pool. After all this time, Steve still had a very visceral reaction to Tony, like his body acted of its own accord and there was nothing Steve could do to control it. He was sure it was written all over his face, the way he admired how selfless Tony could be._ _

__Steve definitely owed the rabbit’s foot an apology. He reached down for it and realized he didn’t have any pants on. He made eye contact with Tony, and Tony grinned. Steve would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it, except that he was suddenly very aware of the fact that he no longer could be sure where the rabbit’s foot was and he hadn’t taken Dean’s warning lightly. Steve ran for his jeans, all the way on the other side of the water._ _

__The floor was slick and when he rounded the corner of the pool, he lost his footing and tumbled to the ground. He cursed the foot as his head struck the pavement._ _

__\---_ _

__The first thing he saw when he came to was Tony’s concerned face peering down at him._ _

__“Steve? What the hell happened?”_ _

__Tony helped Steve to his feet, and Tony’s gentle touch on Steve’s shoulder set Steve’s nerves on fire. Steve clasped Tony’s outstretched hand and held it even as he stood up, just to watch Tony’s face. At this point, Steve knew the rabbit’s foot must be long gone and he felt like tempting fate. Tony’s face was unreadable. Steve dropped his hand, disappointed._ _

__Steve grabbed his jeans and tried to shimmy them up as best he could, considering they were still soaking wet. That’s when he remembered that the flip phone had been in his pocket too. He fished it out while his jeans rested around his knees and checked all of his other pockets. No rabbit’s foot. He slowly turned over the phone and flipped up the screen, and nothing lit up. It was most definitely dead._ _

__“Damn. It’s broken,” he muttered._ _

__He looked up to see Tony reaching into his pocket too. He pulled out the flip phone’s counterpart, the phone that Steve had sent to him. He was taken aback. Not only had Tony kept it, but he’d carried it with him._ _

__“Mine’s busted too,” Tony shook the water from it, “but it’s probably fixable?”_ _

__At that point Steve realized that several people were gawking at him and he couldn’t blame them, considering he was dripping water, there was surely a bump forming on his head, and his pants were halfway down. He attempted to pull his pants up, but as soon as he got them over his thighs he heard a loud ripping sound. He couldn’t see what had happened, so he continued pulling his jeans on._ _

__He finally got them on, zipped up the fly, and turned around to let Tony inspect the damage._ _

__“Well?” He asked Tony._ _

__“Ya, they’re ripped. It’s noticeable.”_ _

__Steve sighed._ _

__“C’mon, we’re going to need Dean’s help.” Steve led the way out of the pool room._ _

__\---_ _

__Tony sat staring incredulously while Dean explained the whole situation in Steve’s hotel room. They had changed and Steve was sitting comfortably on the bed._ _

__“So in conclusion, my brother is on his way back here and we will be able to destroy this thing tonight, once we find it. Meanwhile, the good Captain should just stay put so as to avoid the bad luck.” Dean sat back in the desk chair, and looked between the two of them. Steve was perched on the edge of his bed, and Tony continued pacing the room. Steve and Tony hadn’t interrupted him the whole time he spoke, and now Steve felt apprehensive about dragging Tony into this situation._ _

__“Tony, if you just want to get back to your conference and pretend like we didn’t run into each-”_ _

__Tony cut him off and addressed Dean instead._ _

__“I’m going with you, Dean. I have this pretty neat spy cam that I think would really aid in the recovery effort.”_ _

__“Sweet. Tony Stark helping _me_? Sam is never gonna believe this.” _ _

__Well, at least one of them was having a good time._ _

__“Tony, I really don’t need-” Steve tried again._ _

__“Steve, stay here. Okay?” Tony’s stern but doting look made Steve’s heart tighten up. He didn’t deserve Tony’s help, but yet here Tony was, dropping everything for him._ _

__“Thanks,” was all Steve could manage. He hoped that was enough for now._ _

__Dean and Tony left, and Steve started to worry. He thought about following them, but considering his earlier fall at the pool, that might not be the best idea. He pulled off his wet jeans and threw them into the bathroom. He pulled on another pair of jeans from his duffel, only to find that they had shrunk in the wash. He opted for sweats instead. He grabbed the remote and flipped through T.V. channels, but there were only infomercials on._ _

__He got up to get a glass of water from the bathroom, but as he turned to walk back to the bed he hit the sink with the glass and it slipped from his grasp onto the hotel tile. Steve thought it broke into just two large pieces, but after he picked the two pieces up he stepped on a third piece and his foot started to bleed. As he attempted to find a band-aid, he hurriedly opened a cabinet door right into his own forehead._ _

__“Fuck this,” Steve grumbled. He hobbled back to the bed and collapsed on top of the mattress. It was not every day that Captain America was thwarted by a glass cup and a bathroom cabinet. At least he could feel the swelling on his head going down, and the cut on his foot was already scabbed over._ _

__\---_ _

__Dean and Tony burst through his door a few hours later, triumphant. Dean held the rabbit’s foot with some rubber tongs, and Tony could not stop grinning. Happiness always did look good on Tony._ _

__“You’re not so bad, Mr. Stark,” Dean said as he gave Tony a high-five._ _

__“Please, call me Tony. Mr. Stark was my father.” Tony shot Steve a look, and Steve couldn’t tell whether Tony was trying to goad him into saying something about Howard, or if he was just worried that Steve would be offended on Howard’s behalf._ _

__In that moment, it became clear to Steve how little he and Tony had talked. Really talked. But Steve was a new man now, and maybe the new Steve could make time for Tony._ _

__“Well, uh. I’m not trying to pry, and usually Sam is the one who does this kind of stuff, but -” Dean was abruptly cut off by his phone ringing. Steve breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced over at Tony, who looked equally relieved._ _

__“Ya, I’ve got it… I’ll meet you outside.” Dean hung up the phone and hesitated._ _

__“So, Sammy is here and we need to go burn this thing. Are you guys going to be okay in here?” Dean looked between them, as if he was a parent asking the kids if they needed a babysitter._ _

__“Dean, we appreciate all your help, but I think we can manage until you assure us that that _thing_ is destroyed,” Steve reassured him._ _

__Tony mouthed “we?” at him with his eyebrows raised. Steve shrugged. It was a reflex._ _

__Dean gave them both one last look before he left, and Tony locked the door behind him._ _

__“Spill, Rogers. Where the hell have you been and what the hell have you been doing?” Tony confronted him, his hands on his hips. Steve sat down heavily at the edge of the motel bed and took a deep breath. He felt like he would wither away before he would be able to find the right words._ _

__For some reason, ‘I was trying to avoid you’ did not seem like the right thing to say at the moment. ‘I was afraid you never wanted to see me again’ seemed too vulnerable._ _

__He’d been driving for miles and miles, trying to come up with the right things to say, and yet words failed him. Steve settled for something close to the truth._ _

__“I told you before, I have a darkness. I couldn’t maintain the image that I thought you expected.”_ _

__“Well the way I see it, that rabbit’s foot brought us together again, maybe for a reason.”_ _

__Tony stepped forward until he stood in between Steve’s knees. He put his hands on Steve’s thighs and leaned forward. Steve could smell grease and sweat and masculine deodorant, and all Steve could see were those soft brown eyes and all he could think was, _now is not the time_. He gulped._ _

__“Tony, maybe we should... maybe I should listen more.”_ _

__“You definitely should,” Tony said as he tipped his face downward to gently push his lips against Steve’s. The feel of the kiss made his stomach roll and his brain short out and all he wanted to do was surge forward and gather Tony up into his arms._ _

__Steve wanted to give in. His physical need was palpable as he sat there panting against Tony’s mouth. He was sure Tony would notice the tent in his sweatpants. This was how they used to let things devolve. This was how Steve usually faced his issues. But this new Steve cared about how Tony felt. He cared about what Tony thought. This Steve was going to try a new approach. Not to mention, Steve could not be sure exactly how much the rabbit's foot had influenced Tony's actions ever since Steve ran into him in the lobby._ _

__So Steve pulled back from Tony just a hair, so that he was looking at him cross-eyed. Tony looked at him, crestfallen and angry, until Steve gently took Tony’s hand off his thigh in order to hold it._ _

__“Tony… I meant it. The physical part was always easier than the… other parts.”_ _

__“What the hell, Rogers. It’s like I don't even know you,” Tony said, a little breathless. His face was flushed, and he smirked to take the bite out of his words. Steve felt himself relax just a bit._ _

__“Maybe we could start fresh.” Steve grinned back._ _

__“I guess it wouldn’t do to be necking on the bed when Dean gets back, anyway,” Tony joked._ _

__“Ya, I wouldn’t want to tarnish Dean’s divine view of you,” Steve laughed._ _

__“Reputation is everything,” Tony agreed, teasing. He settled on the bed next to Steve, but didn’t let go of his hand._ _

__Steve felt his body relax as Tony began to talk to him, to unfold before him. Steve tried to hang on to every word, especially the part about _forging a way forward_ and finding a way to work together. Maybe the world didn’t have to feel quite so lonely anymore. _ _

__They were interrupted too soon when Dean burst into the room and swept his hands towards the bed._ _

__Sam walked through the door and stared at Tony and Steve, his eyes wide in surprise._ _

__“Told ya, Sammy.” Dean clapped his hands, clearly pleased with himself.Sam looked absolutely thunderstruck._ _

__Steve shot a glance at Tony, slightly embarrassed that Dean and Sam were acting like fans instead of friends. But Tony just smiled and stood up._ _

__“I’m Tony Stark. Nice to meet you.” Tony shook Sam’s hand._ _

__“Wow. I did not expect to meet Tony Stark today. And I can’t believe I didn’t notice you’re Steve _Rogers_ ,” Sam said as he gestured at Steve. It felt strange now for Sam to his name so reverently. Surely Sam knew everything that had happened. Sam saying his name like that brought Steve rudely back to reality, back to thinking about why he ran in the first place._ _

__But then he looked at Tony’s genuine smile, and was reassured that he was not going to live in the past anymore. They had plans to make. Maybe _avenging_ -type plans. _ _

__Just one thing was standing in the way, really._ _

__“Uh, what happened to burning the foot?” Steve asked._ _

__“We did it outside in the parking lot. It’s done,” Dean said matter-of-factly. He crossed his arms, looking rather pleased with himself._ _

__“So what can you tell me about the repulsor tech?” Sam asked quickly, his eyes bright and eager._ _

__“Oh man, don’t get him started,” Steve teased. He looked over at Tony, who quickly snapped his mouth closed as if rebuffed._ _

__Steve tensed. He didn’t want Tony to get the wrong idea. He certainly didn’t mind when Tony talked about things he cared about, especially super cool albeit deadly tech that Tony had invented himself. Steve supposed that hanging out in this hotel room, with Dean and Sam, for a little while longer might not be so bad._ _

__“Well, don’t get him started without a couple beers first,” Steve amended. Tony looked over at him with a sly grin and Steve attempted to shrug nonchalantly._ _

__“I’m on it!” Dean said as he bounded out the door._ _

__Steve settled into a chair as Tony started to enthusiastically explain the finer points of charged particles to Sam._ _

__And maybe he let Tony catch him staring a few times, just to watch a faint pink color tinge his cheeks as he talked._ _


End file.
